generated with dreamlike art A'i.
The bell rang louder than it did the last time. Lately, Shaga had been hearing ringing that sounded like it was coming from an old cathedral. He found it strange because there were no churches in the city and he appeared to be the only one hearing the sound.
“You unbeliever. You cannot hide from yourself. I see through this thick skin. I see the true color of your eyes and they are dark.” A frail old woman in a cloak, holding a staff spat before walking away.
Shaga felt the scar behind his neck tighten as he turned to find the figure disappearing into the night.
“You believe it to be a scar? Soon it will reveal the truth to you.” Shaga heard the frail voice echo. He seemed dazed for a second before the scene fizzled out. He looked around the crisp evening with everyone going about their business.
Shaga wasn't sure what just happened. But the contrasting image of a cloaked old woman holding a staff that looked ancient in the bustling metropolitan seemed out of place and didn't leave his head. Shaga shook his head and ran his hand through his dark wavy hair. Hurriedly he crossed the road to the other street.
“You waste time on these absurdities all day.” Shaga flipped through pages of a magazine in Cody's bedroom. “It takes away from your ability to logically reason in reality.”
“It is not just the game Shaga. It's the lore, the adrenaline, and the rush after a deserving win.” Cody threw a console at Shaga but he declined. Shaga would never play a single video game even if his life depended on it.
“Did you get around to finishing the houses?” Cody averted his eyes to Shaga when he got no response.
Shaga was helping his uncle who had just passed to finish building tiny carved homes in their garden. Shaga wasn't particularly keen about it but the old man had made him promise.
“Are you in there buddy?” Cody creased his brows and snapped his fingers.
“Oh, I'm fine. It is just that……….and I haven't been able to get it out of my head.” Shaga narrated everything that happened on the street moments ago before he came to visit Cody.
“That sounds like Morrah, buddy. She is the keeper and messenger. Cody grinned.
“Morrah? The Keeper and messenger of what?” Shaga began to feel irritated.
“You are an unbeliever of what lies beyond mortal eyes otherwise you would have understood.”
“Just get on with it already. You are starting to sound like my uncle.”
“Well, okay. You see, in ancient books of fantasy and mysticism, Morrah is the character who guards the gateway between realms. When a connection must be made, Morrah delivers the message.”
The sound of silence that occupied the room unnerved Shaga. He began laughing as if to mask the unsettling feeling within him. He couldn't believe some story he considered a fable could rattle him up like that.
Cody merely glanced at him and shrugged. “You do not have to believe it.”
Shaga was sure he wanted the conversation to end. He needed some fresh air. “I guess I'll see you around tomorrow.” He didn't wait for Cody’s reaction before he left walking briskly out the door.
Shaga would always ride his bike from his cottage home to the bus stop from where he'd catch a bus to work in the city. He did that easily to and fro every day of his life and loved it. He lived for the breath of fresh air that caressed his skin while he rode. His lungs would fill with air and Shaga always felt the strong urge to let go. The strange but sweet feeling felt like wanting to fly.
The ride home that night seemed long especially because Shaga kept looking over his shoulders. He thought that the foliage surrounding the clearing that led to his home was moving toward him. Shaga frantically shook his head. Then he heard the wind carry whispers.
“Unbeliever! Unbeliever!”
Shaga ran into his home and shut the door, almost throwing his bike on the ground.
“Ahhh! Get a grip Man.” Shaga was furious at himself for feeling the way he did. He gulped down a glass of cold water to calm his nerves.
Slowly, he lifted the blinds to peek through the window. Everything seemed calm until he noticed them in the garden. The tiny carved models his uncle was making had been arranged in a circle. One spot was missing a house.
Shaga furrowed his brows. His anxiety was replaced by curiosity. He was certain he did not do that. His eyes fell on the unfinished model on his table. Shaga picked it up and began to paint it the colors of an ice cream shop. As he painted, his mind traveled back to moments he spent with his uncle in the garden. The man would build an entire city made of all these little beautiful models of buildings. He'd paint hospitals, schools, markets, and all that a city would need to thrive. “Now the children need an ice cream shop.” The old man would smile.
“Why do you do this uncle?” Shaga would always ask. He knew his uncle took the craft a little more seriously than a hobby. It was like lives depended on it.
“Why not Shaga? Imagine you belong to a race that depended on mankind for shelter. Would you not be grateful if a home was built for you?”
Shaga would look into his uncle's deep frail eyes that had formed bags and smile. Like Cody, his uncle lived in the fantasy that beyond human existence dwells worlds and creatures unknown to man. Shaga found their theories laughable.
He had finished the painting before he realized how much of a smile he had on his face just from thinking of his uncle. Shaga rubbed the itching scar behind his neck. He summoned the courage to go outside and place the finished piece in the circle. "There must be a logical explanation for this," he uttered.
As soon as Shaga placed the piece, he heard the bell ring again and he staggered. What happened next was like a warp that blew his mind away. Shaga wasn't sure if he had just become extremely small or if the little city had transformed into massive structures. He was now in the middle of this quiet colourful city surrounded by lush garden vegetation.
“Do you believe now?”
Shaga turned to find the frail old woman that had haunted his mind.
“You!” He managed to mutter.
Soon, a group of creatures that looked like miniature humans with pale skin ran toward the final piece of structure that Shaga had placed earlier. They had dark hair, pointy ears, very dark rims for eyes, and short fury wings that stood above their heads.
Shaga was startled until he heard them yell in unison, “Ice cream finally.”
“Do not be afraid of your kind.”
“My kind?” Shaga’s eyes widened.
The woman merely walked to Shaga and rubbed the back of his neck. Like a wrinkled sac, Shaga's mortal body as he knew it came crumbling. Shaga looked at his body stunned. He now looked exactly like the little creatures that were now relishing scones of ice cream each. He was only slightly bigger and a pair of wings fluttered above his head.
“Yes, you really can fly. You’ve always felt it. You are wood people and Like me, your uncle Zuri was a Morrah for the human race. Some decades ago, most of your home was destroyed by the great industrial revolution of mankind. Zuri found you buried deep beneath the destroyed forest. You were orphaned and so he took you in and disguised you as human. He made it his life mission to build your kind a home again, one that you can return to.” The woman spoke with ease.
Shaga frowned. He could not tell if he was shocked, disappointed, or angry at the bizarre revelation. He had gone from human to some strange being in less than five minutes. He wasn’t sure anything was real anymore. Even his existence
“I know this is too much. You can stay and take in everything one step at a time or you can get back in that body and pretend this never happened, we will never try to contact you again, the city is complete now,” she added.
Shaga remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity. His mind was racing with thoughts. He knew that his final decision would determine the rest of his existence. he wasn't in a hurry to decide.